


Lib Unity

by smallandsleepy



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22642459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallandsleepy/pseuds/smallandsleepy
Summary: Ancap is tired of authoritarian bullshit.(Or basically: Ancap’s huge horny crush on Ancom.)
Relationships: LibLeft/AuthLeft, libright/libleft
Comments: 7
Kudos: 109





	Lib Unity

**Author's Note:**

> Fem everyone because I’m so gay for that  
> Ancom is still nb!

“Ancap! An… Anymore LSD...?” 

Ancap looks up as the door to her living room opens and the other anarchist stumbles in, practically hanging off the door frame for support. Ancap herself has had some weed, but Ancom is already fucking tripping. Ancap helps quem to the living room couch, and que sprawls out, head drooping onto Ancap’s shoulder. 

Ancap sighs. “Not if you don’t pay up this time.” 

She tries to go back to watching the Forex market, but it’s difficult with the whole weight of Ancom’s body against her, Ancom humming nonsensically into her ear. 

“Come on, Ancap. Mutual aid. Commodification… LSD…” 

Ancom’s hair falls against Ancap’s face. Que smells pretty good, actually, sweet and colourful. Que has been using the limited edition shampoo that Ancap stocked the bathrooms with. Or maybe Ancap is a little high. 

“Go to Commie if you want mutual aid.” 

Ancom sighs. Quis breath tickles Ancap’s skin. “Commie… Ah, Commie…” que hums, then sighs again. “Commie wouldn’t… approve.” 

“Commie doesn’t approve of anything.” 

Ancom giggles, hard, which makes Ancap smile too. It’s nice not to live in a house full of statists, even if Ancom is also a communist and much too friendly with Commie. Ancap can’t figure out what is going on between the two. But either way, Ancom is not too bad to be around. Ancap could get used to quem and quis chaotic determination and quis sweet colourfulness. 

Que reaches up dreamily, and wraps quis arms around Ancap’s shoulders. Quis cheek twists into Ancap’s neck. 

“Your hair… it’s breathing….” Ancom’s hands thread vaguely through Ancap’s hair as Ancap puts her arm around Ancom’s waist to steady them. It feels oddly intimate, and she idly wonders if Commie is going to storm in in a jealous rage and threaten her with her guns. 

Something twists in her gut, warm and delicious. Why does Ancom, a self-proclaimed anarchist, put up with Commie again? In Ancap’s world, que could whatever the fuck que wanted, even have quis little commune. Ancom didn’t like work, but didn’t realise that que wouldn’t even really need to once Ancap enlightened them about the secrets of investment. They could trip together in each other’s arms, play with each other’s hair if that’s what Ancom liked, make out… 

And, well, if climbing into Ancap’s lap and curling up is how Ancom wants to pay for quis drugs, Ancap wouldn’t really mind. 

\---------------------

Ancom and Commie are fucking, as they do, and this time they are right in the next room and Ancap can hear everything. This has to violate the NAP in some way. Maybe Ancap should barge in and ask if they would like to be filmed: she would gladly give them a portion of the profits, but the communists would probably do it for free. Or, most probably, ask her to fuck off. 

“Pl -- please, I -- oh --” 

Fuck. Ancom is moaning like a bitch, voice an octave above normal and drowning Commie out. It’s very hot, actually. Ancap does actually know how it’s like to fuck -- or, well, be fucked by -- Commie, and it’s pretty good. Commie, like Nazi, is repressed as hell and likes it rough. Ancap could take that. And judging by an especially loud squeal, so can Ancom. 

Ah, Ancom. The authoritarians are, well, authoritarians. Nazi became even more insufferably domineering in real life after sleeping with Ancap, as though she needed to compensate for how much she liked it when Ancap tied her up. Commie, obviously, insisted on being on top, as though being allowed to throw Ancap around that single time they fucked proved anything about who was in charge. Nazi and Commie might be fun in bed, but there was only so much bullshit authoritarian control issues that Ancap can deal with. Surely Ancom had to feel the same. 

Obviously, Ancom isn’t an actual anarchist. No matter how much que claims that Ancap is the one who likes unjust hierarchies. Still, quis bright-eyed recklessness, quis chaotic temper, and that softness that sometimes lurks at the corner of quis mouth make Ancap… curious. Like now -- 

“... More, Anarkiddy?” 

“D -- don’t stop -- oh -- yes -- please -- ” 

Ancom’s breathy pleas slur into a single agonised cry, and, ah. That is really fucking hot. 

Ancap’s breath catches in her chest. Her thighs clench, dark and delicious, as she listens to Ancom almost, almost, almost come. Fuck. She pictures Ancom sprawled out across the sheets, small frame twisting desperately in Commie’s arms to ride the authoritarian’s long rough fingers. She tries to imagine the pale curve of Ancom’s shoulder, quis flushed lips, how the wet insides of quis thighs would feel and taste like. Ancap wouldn’t know. She hasn’t fucked Ancom before. Now there is nothing more that she wants. 

\--------------

“You talk about equitability and human rights but sometimes I don’t think you’re any better than the Nazi! Oppressive statists, both of you! At least Ancap understands that --” 

“Anarkiddy, you’d rather side with a system that has murdered --” 

“You want to get started about murdering --” 

Ancap’s heart is pounding excitedly. Ancom and Commie are fighting again. They bicker all the time, just like the rest of them, but Ancap has never seen things get this heated between the communists. Usually Nazi joins in, at which point Commie and Ancom remember their leftist unity and decide that they at least agree on disagreeing with Authoritarian Right, while Ancap watches the stock market. 

Nazi isn’t here this time, though. This time, Ancap is openly watching the argument, her computer three feet away and forgotten. Ancap isn’t a big fan of arguments herself. Debates take away productive time, and don’t solve problems nearly as quickly as the free market does. 

But oh, does she love to see Ancom stand up to Commie and Nazi. Especially Commie. Maybe Ancap is the only one with actual ethics and doesn’t like to see quem get trodden on. Or maybe Ancom is just particularly hot when que is yelling. Yeah, that’s probably it. Ancom’s mask is off, and quis jaw is set in a strong, gorgeous curve that smoothens out into a soft, flushed neck. Quis flashing eyes make Ancap’s whole body warm. And Ancap’s mind goes back down that lovely string of fantasies in which she gets to press Ancom into a wall and kiss her way down quis neck and chest and stomach and -- 

“Anarkiddy, this is exactly why --” 

“Don’t call me that! You’re always treating me like a child! You don’t even take me seriously! You know what, there’s a reason no one thinks I should trust you and I’ll just --” 

“Anarkiddy --” 

Ancom storms away down the corridor and Ancap hears a door slam. She stands up quickly before Commie can round on her, and hurries toward Ancom’s bedroom. 

“Go away! Oh, it’s you.” 

Ancom’s chest is still heaving as though que has just brutally beat up a whole gang of fascists. Quis cheeks are flushed. Loose hair framing quis face, eyes bright and piercing. So fucking beautiful. Ancap moves closer and Ancom holds her gaze, not backing away. 

“Fuck statists, eh?” 

“Yeah, all they care is about winning the argument. I actually love how you can just never engage with them. I love how...” 

Ancap is even closer now. They are almost nose to nose, and Ancom’s voice trails off as que bites quis lower lip in a new kind of interest. Ancap can feel the warmth of quis breath against her cheek. A shiver passes through them, both of them. Ancap cannot tell who. But she wants Ancom and Ancom wants her too, and it's so fucking hot and Ancom hasn't even touched her yet. 

So Ancap kisses quem, hard and wet, trembles at the feeling of Ancom’s tongue pressing insistently into her lips. She wraps her arms tight around Ancom’s waist, presses her leg firmly between Ancom’s. Ancom moans breathily into her neck, and Ancap stumbles as que tugs her toward quis bed. She giggles, and feels something akin flutter between their chests as she hastily pulls away at Ancom's clothes. 

Ancom tastes sweet and colourful and delicious. Ah, fuck. Finally. 

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for the horniness oops  
> 


End file.
